I've toyed with letting you into my private life a bit further. I struggled last summer with some exhaustion. While I was not,at this point, depressed. I was still healing from a previous experience with burnout. But indeed, the brooding I'll share over the next days or weeks, will let you in on a bit of what it looked like from inside of my head when I was tired and wondering about ministry, and my place in it.
Below are some unedited excerpts from my private journal while on vacation last summer. I'm letting you into a private place here. Please be kind.
June 2
So here I am, washed-up on another shore, pushed here by a need to be away--a need to rest. I've sat at surf's edge for much of the first day. Feeling profound thoughts, and wishing I could pen them.
The encroaching tide, and the fleeing foam breathe-in-and-out in a primal whisper--they say something to me. And deep within, I comprehend. Though my "first-day-away ears" hear only white noise; rhythmic static. And once again I come here with a restless spirit and a quivering soul. My body is picking-up their symptoms. Anxiety is grinding my teeth, dizzying my conversations and crowding-out my peace.
What is the capacity of the seas? This, yet another escape, lands me by the surf, seeking relief, cleansing, peace--Truth. A mystic of sorts once asked me, "What are you running from?" As the sun sets behind me, and the sky shimmers before, I feel it is time to find an answer--one that I can live with.
June 3
At 5:40 this morning I woke. Light peered through the edges of the window where the curtain comes to an end. Quickly I step into shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, walk into the morning and toward the beach. Cresting the dune, I see the top half of the sun. (Have to fight feelings of failure for a moment--I missed the first peek of the sun over the ocean.) Then I realize the foolishness of my driven-ness--even on vacation!
As the sea bears the sun, and births this new day, two words emerge. "Mortality" and "vantity." And somehow this morning, I must admit their relation to one-another, and to me.
My family has known dark days. Days of disease or broken body. Now that we have moved beyond those reminders of our mortality, we are grateful to be living comfortably back in the "real world" where we easily ignore mortality--at least until a friend calls speaking of a new measuring stick, marked with three months, and divided into 90 notches called days.
Why did I and so many others rise early and take our places to watch the sunrise this morning? And why did the nascent beauty of today's first light reflect off of mostly graying heads? In some internal place we are learning that be it ninety or nine thousand notches that remain, there will be a last. And I want to be OK with that. Yet I know that I am not. I know this because yesterday--I shaved!
I'll put more of this entry up in a day or so. Be easy on me in your comments. It's not easy putting private journal stuff on the internet:)!
Showing posts with label My Crash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Crash. Show all posts
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Runaway Pastor--An Intro
Following is a brief introduction to The Runaway Pastor, a new novel I'm seeking to publish.
The first seven chapters are available by clicking the hot button at the top right hand side of this page. I need feedback, so let me know what you think. And if you look in here now and then, why not add yourself as a follower. I'm gathering a list of those interested in the book.
Pastor Trent is The Runaway Pastor from the beginning. His job is hollow and empty—a CEO nightmare. He and his wife Natalie play the role of the perfect couple, yet their long drift away from friendship and intimacy leave them cold toward one another. So he plots his escape, and disappears. His plan is so thorough, neither his congregation at Baylor’s Bend, nor his wife has any idea where he has gone.
In his new life, various circumstances provide opportunities for Trent to emerge as a peacemaker, and a man of mercy and grace. Living life outside of “the ministry,” Trent finds the exercise of his ministry gifts to be exhilarating and natural. But trouble waits.
Trent’s betrayal drives Natalie to hire an investigator, and makes her vulnerable to the advances of a church staff member. Kim, a beautiful and single friend of Trent’s new boss, is a spiritual seeker. She and Trent spend long evenings on the beach wondering about the sacred, sharing their tragic stories, and soon they fall for one another.
Jump into the pain behind one pastor who took "career success" a bit too seriously. Is there any hope?
Remember! This story is NOT autobiographical. It is, however the fruit of many conversations with other pastors, and a three year period of burnout I experienced. For any old friends out there, Natalie is not my wife. My wife and I are very happy 29 years and 2 months into our marriage.
Read on!
The first seven chapters are available by clicking the hot button at the top right hand side of this page. I need feedback, so let me know what you think. And if you look in here now and then, why not add yourself as a follower. I'm gathering a list of those interested in the book.
Pastor Trent is The Runaway Pastor from the beginning. His job is hollow and empty—a CEO nightmare. He and his wife Natalie play the role of the perfect couple, yet their long drift away from friendship and intimacy leave them cold toward one another. So he plots his escape, and disappears. His plan is so thorough, neither his congregation at Baylor’s Bend, nor his wife has any idea where he has gone.
In his new life, various circumstances provide opportunities for Trent to emerge as a peacemaker, and a man of mercy and grace. Living life outside of “the ministry,” Trent finds the exercise of his ministry gifts to be exhilarating and natural. But trouble waits.
Trent’s betrayal drives Natalie to hire an investigator, and makes her vulnerable to the advances of a church staff member. Kim, a beautiful and single friend of Trent’s new boss, is a spiritual seeker. She and Trent spend long evenings on the beach wondering about the sacred, sharing their tragic stories, and soon they fall for one another.
Jump into the pain behind one pastor who took "career success" a bit too seriously. Is there any hope?
Remember! This story is NOT autobiographical. It is, however the fruit of many conversations with other pastors, and a three year period of burnout I experienced. For any old friends out there, Natalie is not my wife. My wife and I are very happy 29 years and 2 months into our marriage.
Read on!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
When this pastor burned-out.
Two and a half years ago I was in the midst of my Sunday AM teaching, when the plug got pulled. One minute I felt fine. The next I had no strength. After thousands of dollars in medical testing, scanning, sampling, and imaging--it was determined I was a victim of pastoral burn-out.
Most people assume this means I was tired of ministry, or I was bored, or exhausted. No, it meant that one day I was running ten miles for fun; and the next week I could not walk fifty feet without rest and gathering my bearings. It meant I went from being a people-person with no fears; to being a guy unable to walk into a restaurant--or any public place--without an overwhelming dizziness and a threatening panic attack. I needed naps, long ones throughout the day. A counselor told me I was in a "major depression," and I was not able to argue, I could only sob.
I am still a pastor. I have been loved back to decent health by a great group of friends, family, and an amazing wife. And in the process, I have discovered a great deal of back-room whispers about pastoral burnout. As a group, we are warned to avoid it. We hear rumors of its pervasiveness. But I have not found a forum where a pastor can say, "Here is why I burned out." Or, "If I could, I'd do something else." Or, "I feel trapped in the ministry."
Now since admitting my "crash" (as I like to call it), I have heard those words, and many like them from pastor friends. Do you need to talk? Do you need to vent? Here is a place for you to run away, and not leave. Or maybe to receive encouragement to hang-in, or to leave, or...?
All I can say is, I didn't see it coming. But believe me, I had earned it.
So I'm putting this out here. Jump in if you want.
Peace.
david
Most people assume this means I was tired of ministry, or I was bored, or exhausted. No, it meant that one day I was running ten miles for fun; and the next week I could not walk fifty feet without rest and gathering my bearings. It meant I went from being a people-person with no fears; to being a guy unable to walk into a restaurant--or any public place--without an overwhelming dizziness and a threatening panic attack. I needed naps, long ones throughout the day. A counselor told me I was in a "major depression," and I was not able to argue, I could only sob.
I am still a pastor. I have been loved back to decent health by a great group of friends, family, and an amazing wife. And in the process, I have discovered a great deal of back-room whispers about pastoral burnout. As a group, we are warned to avoid it. We hear rumors of its pervasiveness. But I have not found a forum where a pastor can say, "Here is why I burned out." Or, "If I could, I'd do something else." Or, "I feel trapped in the ministry."
Now since admitting my "crash" (as I like to call it), I have heard those words, and many like them from pastor friends. Do you need to talk? Do you need to vent? Here is a place for you to run away, and not leave. Or maybe to receive encouragement to hang-in, or to leave, or...?
All I can say is, I didn't see it coming. But believe me, I had earned it.
So I'm putting this out here. Jump in if you want.
Peace.
david
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